


Vivi's Adventure

by dixonbelcourts



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 16:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixonbelcourts/pseuds/dixonbelcourts
Summary: In a way, he didn’t understand it. Anything about Hanzo, or anything with them. Even in Overwatch he’d never felt as if he’d especially amounted to much, whether professionally or in the basic area of helping people. Hanzo was as stubborn as they came.





	Vivi's Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> fluff mchanzo that i got commissioned to do!

“How long since you’ve been here?”   
“Years.”   
It’s a simple answer from a complicated man, and in retrospect Jesse doesn’t know why he expected anything else. Hanamura looked so different than how it had before. Jesse could tell that much even without having ever been there before. The home of such a prestigious family could hardly afford to start out in such decay. The paint is peeling off buildings, the lights flickering. It’s still the home of a prestigious family, Jesse reminds himself. Even with the decision to leave Hanzo had always told him it would always be a place of the Shimadas whether one resided there or not. They’d made their imprint and laid their claim.   
Hanzo had never spoken of missing Hanamura - Jesse knew he was always too proud and too determined to look confident in his choices past Genji. Everything since killing his brother had to be _right,_ a perfect string of decisions. There was no room for failure after something like that - everything black and white in one section or the other. He couldn’t miss the city at all, or he would’ve failed himself and his brother even further.   
Jesse knows better, though. When you got down to regret being stripped bare and naked, people didn’t vary much. Hanzo had his own baggage, as Jesse had his. There were always degrees of _believability_ though. Deep down he knew Hanzo was an angry man, and even more defensive than him. So, he lied. One mission in Hanamura, sniper needed, Jesse coming along out of boredom as he did with so many others. Hanzo sighed, wrapped a cover around his face for being hidden, and that was that.   
The Hanamura arcade itself was still in decent shape. A thin layer of dust covered some of the older machines, ignored by tourists. Neon lights still flickered and reflected off of both the men’s faces and the mirrors on the walls. A boy, no more than ten years old, looks up at the two as they come through the doors. It’s too long before he chooses to stops staring and returns to his father, tugging on his pant leg as he argues with the manager. Half of a smile graces Jesse’s face, intentionally hidden by the brim of his hat in case the child were to look back again. He looks to Hanzo to find him grimacing, obviously debating whether or not to cover his face again, despite the nostalgia the arcade brought back. _He’s always like this,_ Jesse reassures himself. 

When glancing over the games he recognizes very little, aside one with a flickering sign called _‘Vivi’s Adventure’_ . A loud, irritating, repetitive theme song is all he can remember.   
“What’d y’ used to play here?” he turns, taking Hanzo’s hand as he speaks.   
With the distraction Hanzo keeps the gesture, brushing his thumb along Jesse’s fingers. He hesitates, Jesse notices.   
“He would play the claw,” he says quietly, and Jesse knows what he means. “He would always lose.”   
The smile that spreads across Hanzo’s face at the thought makes Jesse relax. Hanzo walks to one of the claw machines packed with pachamiri plushes to the brim. Jesse watches as he simply moves the controller back and forth, ignoring the machine not running.   
“Could never figure out these damn things.” Jesse says.   
Hanzo chuckles to himself, still staring at the pile of plushes behind the glass.   
“What is there to figure out?” he asks, amused. “You move it and you press the button.”   
Jesse rolls his eyes. For Hanzo’s lack of kindness, it’d been replaced with his entire condescending nature. It could be charming at times, as much as Jesse could find it irritating in others. With Hanzo not paying attention to much, he takes the opportunity to move and wrap his arms around him. He wraps his right hand around the one grasping the joystick and uses his other to take his cigarette out of his mouth. In the distance he can hear the manager snapping at him to please not smoke in there or to throw it on the ground, that the floors have just been cleaned, but Jesse glares at him and he quiets down.   
Jesse ruffles in his pockets for coins, or bills, anything even slightly resembling money he could put into the machine that would result in the crane moving. In only a few second Hanzo slides coins into the slot and starts moving it anyway, ignoring the man behind him. Jesse had noticed Hanzo’s recent habit of keeping money with him as a result of never having any himself, had chosen not to comment on it.   
“Thought it was my turn.” He says.   
He tries to make it come out as sarcastically as he can manage, but sees Hanzo smile again regardless, and move the stick around until the machine blares a cheering sound for his loss. Jesse reaches around Hanzo’s pocket and takes the money himself, fumbling them into the machine one by one until the blaring noises start playing. Hand wrapped around Hanzo’s on the joystick, moving it around inside the box. As he tries to click the button to drop it Hanzo twists his wrist to the right and the crane goes with it. To his frustration, Hanzo laughs as Jesse himself scowls. The countdown noises on the machine grow louder as time ticks down and Jesse knocks the joystick to the left on the four second mark.   
Jesse’s face splits into a grin as the crane’s tongs wrap around a plush, one of them stabbing into the pachamiri’s painted eye. He doesn’t see Hanzo roll his eyes, distracted by his own joy at besting the machine. All too proud he takes the pachamiri from the machine and presses it into Hanzo’s chest. Hanzo only grab it when Jesse lets it go and it falls to him, pushing it aside afterwards to take Jesse’s hand.   
“You’ve bested it at last.” He says, amusement repressed in his voice. “Were I still in the family I would have thrown you a parade.”   
Hanzo Shimada _joking_ is always a shock to Jesse, though he finds himself grateful he was the one who saw it most. He looks down to the ground and smiles to himself regardless, hands at his sides as he steps towards the other man.   
“Don’t go getting starstruck.” He jokes, left arm going to wrap around the man.   
Only for a second he gets to kiss him before the manager starts yelling at him again, over propriety and children. Jesse glares at him again and reaches for his pistol, only for Hanzo to stop him a second before his mistake. When Jesse looks at him he’s simply shaking his head. Deep down McCree knows he’s right.   
As they leave the manager yells at them not to come back. 

“Give me that.” Jesse says, once they’re out in the sun.   
He grabs the bow from Hanzo’s back and earns a hiss from him, a snapping demand to give it back. It almost makes Jesse laugh, seeing the short leader of the Shimadas try and grab his bow from an outlaw. He keeps it from him until Hanzo gives up. Of all things, Hanzo had to de-stress, and in the arcade was the most he’d seen him smile in too long. To a degree Hanzo seems to know this - Jesse didn’t expect him to give up at all. Affection shoots to his core and through his willpower before he can even try to stop it. A moment later he pushes a lock of Hanzo’s hair out of his face, nudging up his face with his thumb.   
“Show me around.” He says, and Hanzo sighs. 

The next two hours are spent walking around Hanamura, Hanzo telling Jesse old legends and things that happened before ever saying anything personally nostalgic. Jesse changes the topic and tries to move them to another spot whenever he gets near Genji, or they move a tad too close to Shimada Castle.  
In a way, he didn’t understand it. Anything about Hanzo, or anything with them. Even in Overwatch he’d never felt as if he’d especially amounted to much, whether professionally or in the basic area of helping people. Hanzo was as stubborn as they came ( other than Morrison, he remembers how the man’s stickler attitude would be the only thing to make him get his job done ), yet he managed to make him give up his bow with barely any effort. The very concept of being able to help someone was surreal, much less the person who’d snapped at him upon first meeting. He’d thought of this before, albeit when Hanzo was sleeping beside him and he was wide awake with a drink again. For then he just accepts it, and smiles.  
In the end all it doesn’t take long for Jesse to get hungry. Hanzo had always told him how weak his appetite was and how he personally could go hours without hunger if it was needed. Jesse had told him to be quiet at the time. Instead, he seems as eager as his partner for food.  
“Soon.” Hanzo tells him, yet it’s another hour before they wind up at a noodle restaurant Hanzo promised was absolutely stellar.  
Jesse had never liked the food, but he was too hungry at that point to care.

A flying alien in a plastic UFO hangs above the entrance to the shop, smiling down at any passing customers while eating it’s noodles. The bright colors of it are nearly blinding, and Jesse wonders how something so tacky could have anything that tasted _good_ inside. Regardless, he follows Hanzo in, and toward the back booth so they could both remain hidden. Even in a place he could be killed Hanzo seems so relaxed, with his hands placed on the table and feet resting next to Jesse’s. This is his home, it always would be, regardless what he had done to it or what had occurred for their family there Hanamura would be a place for the Shimadas. He was at home here.   
Jesse orders the same thing Hanzo does and kicks his feet under the table as they wait. For once Hanzo indulges him, nudging his leg back and forth to the same rhythm as his partner’s. Hanzo fidgets with the scarf masking his face until Jesse’s had enough and moves to slide next to him in the booth, leaving his bow in the other. A simple nod is all it takes for Hanzo to thank him, yet still he pulls his scarf down and presses a kiss to Jesse’s shoulder before pulling it back up in paranoia. Jesse McCree sits, pleased with himself.   
Per usual, Jesse doesn’t like the food. In contrast Hanzo finishes his bowl in under five minutes and Jesse can’t help but stare as he does so. For the purpose of entertaining himself Jesse lifts off his own hat and drops it onto Hanzo’s. There’d been so many other times he’d done so, but never had Hanzo been in the mood to not immediately take it off. Jesse smirked at the sight, but found he wanted to see him this relaxed more often, when it wasn’t caused by pure exhaustion. After his own, Hanzo picks at Jesse’s own bowl so it would get finished, pacing himself to not take the whole thing. 

By the time they’re out the sun is setting, and he can see Hanzo’s disappointment at the fact. Nightfall meant back to home, and back to home meant it’d be years before he returned home if he did at all. Jesse nudges his shoulder and tries to get him to smile again. During his time with Deadlock he’d grown to be more overjoyed things happened than that things were ending, even if just to keep himself miserable as little as possible.   
“Sweetheart,” Jesse says, and smirks when Hanzo answers to it. “It’s cold.”   
He ignores it being warm just to drape his serape around the other man, shoving the edges into his hand to hang onto as if he were a small child. It’d be good for whatever comfort it could bring him before they left. Jesse had never minded cold.


End file.
